


What A Beautiful Life

by Cezaria



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 11:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cezaria/pseuds/Cezaria
Summary: Akira returns to Tokyo for university. Upon visiting Yongen-jaya, he encounters a familiar figure standing outside Cafe Leblanc.“I’m sorry that this is sudden, but I don’t remember who I am. I just had a feeling I ought to come here.”





	What A Beautiful Life

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE READING THE STORY.
> 
> This is not a story about Akechi's redemption. Neither is it a story about saving him.  
> I just thought I need to make that perfectly clear.
> 
> First and foremost, it's a story about Akechi's relationship with Akira.

 

“It sure is crowded, as always.”

 

Morgana poked his nose out of the backpack and sniffed, being careful not to be too conspicuous. The air inside Tokyo Metro was clammy from too many bodies hurrying to and fro within narrow spaces. “I was born here, but I’m not sure I miss this place.” He grumbled.

 

It had been a year since they left Tokyo, the place where Akira spent the second year of his bizarre high school life. Due to circumstances out of his control, he was sent to the city from his small hometown for a year. What was it for? Rehabilitation? Rebirth? After a string of events that culminated in shooting an evil god in the head, Akira returned to his hometown and mundane life. The last year of high school had passed without incident, and Akira was once again back in the capital.

 

“We have to get used to it again. It’s four years, Mona. Maybe more.” Akira said. He didn’t have to shout through the clamour of the subway. Somehow, he and Morgana had a way of communicating without others noticing. Maybe that was why nobody seemed to care about the fact that Akira constantly carried a cat in his bag.

 

“Yeah.” Morgana agreed. “Though this time we’ll finally be living in a proper apartment.”

 

“Hey. Don’t insult Leblanc.”

 

“C’mon, even you have to admit the attic wasn’t that great!”

 

Akira chuckled at that. The attic of Cafe Leblanc. That had been his residence during his year in Tokyo. It was dusty, the floorboards creaked, and his bed was just a mattress placed upon plastic crates. Yet, time passed and Akira grew fond of it like an old and cranky but kind-hearted relative. And the owner of Leblanc, his guardian in Tokyo, had a rough facade that concealed a gentle, caring soul. Sojiro was his cafe in human form.

 

“I haven’t been to Leblanc in a while.” Akira mused. He had kept in contact with Futaba so he knew Sojiro would still be the same-old, serving the few regulars that came into his cafe everyday. Like freshly brewed coffee, a wave of nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the figure of the old man behind the counter. “Should I drop by today?”

 

“Weren’t you gonna go to the apartment?” Morgana piped up. “You didn’t tell the boss you’d be visiting, right? Are you sure showing up unannounced is a good idea?”

 

“He’ll be surprised,” Akira grinned, “well, pleasantly, I hope.” He added, turning around and walking towards the interchange platform for the train to Yongen-Jaya.

 

“What about the apartment, and your stuff?”

 

“The boxes can sit there for a day. Besides, I feel like having some coffee now.”

 

Morgana sighed and leaned back into the depths of Akira’s backpack. “Fine…”

 

This was a new start, a new life. But before that, Akira wanted to see some old faces. After all, he still held that year’s memories close to his heart.

 

* * *

 

Yongen-jaya hadn’t changed much from what he remembers.

 

There was the small supermarket, cinema, Takemi’s clinic (Akira made a mental note to drop by later), and the thrift store, where he made a right and Leblanc was only a few steps away. Akira’s heart pounded in anticipation of seeing Sojiro again. What would the old man say? Probably chide him for showing up out of nowhere, then proceed to brew him a cup of coffee. They’d sit and talk until Futaba comes home from school--or at least, that was how he envisioned it before the cafe came into view.

 

Akira halted to a stop.

 

There was a person standing in front of Leblanc.

 

He turned his head to look at Akira--it was a boy, despite the shoulder-length brown hair and soft features of his face.

 

“Hello.” The person said.

 

Akira’s throat went dry, a lump rose and no sound came out. He knew that voice.

 

“Can I ask you something?” The other boy continued.

 

Akira did not reply. He stood frozen in place.

 

“What date is it today?”

 

Akira blinked.

 

The harsher winter months had passed, and the air was crisp with the scent of young leaves. The sky was a clear blue painted with thin wisps of white. Cherry blossoms would bloom in about two weeks.

 

“...March. 5th of March.” He squeezed out an answer.

 

“I see. Thank you.” The person said, turning back to face the cafe. “It felt like a long dream…”

 

Akira swallowed.  “W-what...are you…?”

 

He met Akira’s eyes again, and gave a small smile. “As you can see, I’m human.” He said. “Though I can’t tell you who I am... because...”

 

The boy lowered his eyes.

 

“I don’t know who I am.”

 

* * *

 

 

Akira knew this person, he knew him too well.

 

Goro Akechi.

 

Akira would never forget the name that belonged to that face and voice.

 

Two years ago, a series of incidents coined “mental shutdowns” and “psychotic breakdowns” plagued Tokyo. Ordinary people suddenly went out of control and did things they normally wouldn't. Some were even found dead. The police investigations were aided by a high school student, a young detective. That detective was Goro Akechi.

 

Soon after, Akira and his friends found themselves ensnared in a conspiracy. As they delved deeper, the shocking truth came to light. The crimes were perpetrated by a person who, through an app that allowed him access to a cognitive world called the Metaverse, could induce psychotic breakdowns in people.

 

The culprit’s name was Goro Akechi.

 

Countless incidents followed the beginning of Akira’s involvement to the final confrontation, most whipping by in a jumbled mess as Akira tried to clear the fog in his head. One thing was for certain, Goro Akechi was supposed to be…

 

“Akira, what’s wrong?” Morgana wiggled out from the backpack and climbed onto his vehicle’s shoulder. “You stopped all of a sud--Akechi?!”

 

Morgana dug his claws into Akira’s shoulder and yowled, making him flinch. The boy standing before them tilted his head as he peered at the cat.

 

Akechi brought a hand to his lips and gave a short laugh. “I didn’t know people carried cats in their backpacks! That’s interesting.”

 

“Hey, this **is** Akechi, right?” Morgana hissed. “What is he doing here? I thought he--”

 

Morgana was right. There was no mistaking that, in appearance, the person in front of them was Goro Akechi. Instead of the beige uniform and argyle sweater vest they were used to seeing him in, he was dressed in jeans and a simple white collared shirt, more casual than the detective from Akira’s memory.

 

But something felt off. It was either his expressions or his aura that seemed…transparent. This person was Akechi, yet he was _not_ Akechi. At least, not the Akechi that Akira had come to know.

 

Akira hesitated. “I...don’t know.”

 

Morgana fell silent, his tail lashing to and fro. As if sensing the tension in the air, Akechi stepped forward.

 

“Um,” he started, “I’m sorry that this is sudden, but I don’t remember who I am. I just had a feeling I ought to come here.”

 

Was he being fooled with a cruel joke? Akira narrowed his eyes. He scrutinized Akechi’s words, his face, searching for signs of deceit. The other boy did not shy away from Akira’s glare. His expression was lucid like glass.

 

 _It doesn’t make any sense._ Akira thought. _Akechi was never like this._

 

_...Except for that one time._

 

“I’m sorry for asking, I know I just met you.” Akechi apologised again. “But...could you help me?”

 

There was a twinge somewhere in his chest. Without thinking, Akira nodded. Morgana gave a loud, incredulous meow.

 

“Thank you.” An expression of relief and gratitude spread over Akechi’s face. “This place feels familiar to me. I should go inside, I think?”

 

“Hold on.” Akira held up a hand. “I’ll go first. Wait outside, I’ll call you when you can come in.”

 

Akechi smiled. “Okay.”

 

“Don’t go anywhere.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

* * *

 

 

Sojiro had seen his fair share of impossibilities in life, considering his age. Maybe he was getting old, with the way youngsters kept surprising him these days. One day they’d tell him they were engaged in supernatural criminal activities, the next day they told him the cat could talk.

 

The youngster put under his care, Akira Kurusu, reminded him of his teenage years. Maybe that was why he warmed up to the boy despite his attempts to distance himself at first. He’d brought Futaba out from her mental enclosure, and helped bring their family together. Sojiro had full trust in him.

 

It took every mote of that trust to accept the circumstances Akira presented to him that one early spring day when he appeared at Leblanc.

 

“So...my name is Goro Akechi?” The chestnut-haired boy placed a finger to his chin and pondered.

 

“Yeah, you were a regular at this cafe.” Sojiro explained, shooting a glance at the Akira, who sat next to Akechi at the counter, as if to ask _is this all you wanted me to say_?

 

Akira nodded, acknowledging them both at the same time. Somehow, he felt it wasn’t a good idea expose Akechi to his rather...complicated past just yet.

 

“Is there anything else you know about me?” Akechi asked tentatively.

 

Sojiro shrugged, looking at Akira again. “You were just a regular, I know nothing except the kind of coffee you preferred.”

 

“I see. Thank you, Sakura-san.” Akechi bowed his head. Sojiro raised his eyebrows in surprise, but turned around to the jars that lined the shelves, suddenly very interested in their contents.

 

Akira did not take his eyes off Akechi, who was yet again quiet and contemplative.

 

“How did you get here? Where did you come from?” Akira asked in a low voice. Morgana peered from under the chair, listening.

 

Akechi paused, put a finger to his chin and hugged his elbow with his other hand. “I don’t know. It felt like I was in a dream. When I woke up, I was standing in front of this place, and I saw you.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything.”

 

“He’s not lying.” Morgana said, jumping into Akira’s lap. “That much I can tell.”

 

“What are you going to do from now on?”

 

Akechi looked away for a moment, then focused back on Akira.

 

Akira knew those auburn eyes. The expression within them...not so much. It was too clear, too unclouded.

 

“I don’t know.” He answered. “I suppose I should find out who I am first, where I’m meant to be…but somehow…” He shook his head again and forced a smile. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry for troubling you and Sakura-san. I think I must be going now.”

 

Akechi stood from his chair and turned towards the door. Instinctively, Akira reached out and grabbed his forearm. Akechi gasped at the sudden contact.

 

“Wait.” Akira said. “Where will you go?”

 

Akechi looked down at the hand on his arm. “I...I don’t know.”

 

“You can stay here.” Akira blurted.

 

Akechi stared at him with wide eyes.

 

“What?” Sojiro whipped around from the shelves he was pretending to take an interest in.

 

“There’s a room in the attic you can use.” Unwavering and not letting go, Akira continued his proposal.

 

“Akira!”

 

“It’s not occupied. Right, Sojiro?” That was the final word. Sojiro looked livid, but Akira held his guardian’s glare with determination. He would apologise as many times as needed later, but in that moment, he felt this was what he had to do. He could count on Sojiro.

 

* * *

 

 

It took a few days for the retired Phantom Thieves to gather at Leblanc. Each had their own lives and could no longer be called on a whim. Akira had updated them through text about the events that transpired on the day he arrived back at Tokyo. He’d hoped dropping the bomb that way would ease the shock for each of them.

 

Akira smiled fondly at their lively chatter through text. Ryuji’s grades were not enough to get him into college, but he’d taken up apprenticeship at the ramen place in Ogikubo. He seemed happy, always having expressed reluctance to study any more than the national required schooling years. Ann studied fashion design and English while keeping up her modelling work. Yusuke was accepted into an art college on a scholarship. Makoto and Haru enrolled into elite universities in the Tokyo region. Futaba attended her senior year of high school at Shujin Academy.

 

 _They’re all doing well._ Akira thought to himself. The knowledge put him at ease. People had to move on, embark on new paths in their lives, and it made him happy that they all pulled through together.

 

_What about him? Could he have had a future?_

 

“A-hem.” Morgana jumped onto the table and cleared his throat. “I hereby commence the reunion meeting of the Phantom Thieves. We all know today’s topic of discussion, I assume?”

 

Everyone nodded or vocalised their agreement. It was Makoto who spoke up first.

 

“Just to be perfectly clear, we are talking about what to do with Akechi-kun, right?”

 

“Correct.” Morgana’s tail twitched. “To reiterate, we don’t know why he’s back, or why he’s lost his memories. I sense no sign of the Metaverse either. As of now, we’ll only discuss what should be done with him. Specifically, whether or not we should tell him about his past.”

 

“Where is the guy, anyway?” Ryuji crossed his arms. “Wouldn’t it be kinda bad to have him walk in on us like this?”

 

“He’s out in Shibuya now.” Akira answered automatically. “I’ll know when he comes back.”

 

“How come you’re so sure?” Ryuji challenged.

 

Futaba waved her smartphone. “Tracking device.”

 

Ryuji threw up his arms. “Right. Forget I even asked.”

 

“So…” Ann piped up. “Akira, you haven’t told him anything besides his name?”

 

Akira nodded. “I had Sojiro tell him. Since he was a regular.”

 

“Wouldn’t he already know about himself if he just searched his name on the web?” Makoto wondered.

 

Futaba shook her head. Her expression fell. “For some reason, information about Goro Akechi has been disappearing from the net ever since...you know.” She left her sentence unfinished, but everyone knew what she meant. “Nothing comes up anymore.”

 

The room slipped into silence. They had all noticed it at some point. No TV channels ran specials about the famous young detective. Classmates moved on to other idols. The police stopped looking. Even Makoto’s sister, Niijima Sae, once said the prosecution of the former prime minister was going well, and that Akechi’s testimony might not be necessary. He was no longer needed.

 

It was as if Goro Akechi no longer existed to this world.

 

“So the only ones who know about him...is us?” Haru spoke in a quiet whisper.

 

“We should tell him.” Ryuji propped up a leg, earning a look of disdain from Morgana. “Of course we should let him know what he’s done!”

 

“But what good would that do?” Makoto mused. “Even if we tell him, he won’t remember anything.”

 

“Are you saying he should just get away with what he did?” Ryuji retorted.

 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Makoto rubbed her temples. “Haru, what do you think? Your father was one of the victims, after all.”

 

Everyone’s eyes were on Haru as she gave thought to her answer.

 

“I haven’t forgiven him…” She said, trying to find the right words. “But I want him to atone with full knowledge of his actions. From what Mona-chan said, it just seems like we’d be telling him a story he has no recollection of and forcing him to live in guilt…”

 

“Haru has a point.” Yusuke finally spoke. “Is there meaning in making an oblivious person carry past sins he cannot remember?”

 

“But, that means Akechi-kun won’t have any memories! Isn’t that really sad?” Ann protested.

 

“Is there a chance he’s faking it?” Ryuji asked. “Hey, we have to be sure.”

 

Morgana shook his head, cat ears twitching. “No, he isn’t. From whatever leftover powers given to me by my master, I can still tell that much.”

 

“Futaba-chan, what do you think?” Haru asked the girl with large glasses adorning her face. Futaba had long since stopped wearing her headphones when in the vicinity of others. “Your mother died because of him as well.”

 

Futaba raised her head to the ceiling in thought.

 

“I guess one part of me wants to tell him everything he’s done, to make him suffer for it,” she admitted. “But he wasn’t our real enemy. He was just used...so...I, I dunno!” She scratched her orange head. “It’s your ball, Akira!”

 

“What?” Akira, who had only been half-listening to his friends’ discussion,, was taken aback by Futaba’s sudden baton pass.

 

“Yes, Akira, what about you?” Makoto encouraged. “What do you think we should do with Akechi-kun? You were--”

 

“The person he tried to kill, huh.” He finished her sentence. Everyone in the room flinched. The memory of that event was distressing, to say the least.

 

Akira had no recollection of Akechi trying to kill him. Not technically. He had the knowledge, but the one who had Akechi’s gun barrel to his face was a cognitive version of himself in Sae’s palace. Maybe that time in the cruise ship’s engine room also counted, but considering how that ended, he wasn’t so sure.

 

Akira laced his fingers together, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. As usual, they looked toward him for guidance and leadership when there was a problem at hand. Not that they weren’t capable in themselves, but this particular problem involved him more than anyone else.

 

He was the one who persuaded Sojiro to let Akechi stay in his old attic room, after all.

 

“I think…” Akira considered. “We should give it some time, just to see how he’s doing before we make a decision.”

 

Morgana sighed and stretched. “I think that would be wise. Right now, it’s still too early to tell if his memories won’t return.”

 

Tension in the room deflated, and the former Thieves all to some extent conceded that more time was needed. It was agreed upon that, for the time being, they would treat Akechi as if meeting him for the first time.

 

“Are you sure? Ann would give us away.” Futaba said with a sly grin.

 

Morgana meowed in protest. “There is nothing wrong with Lady Ann!”

 

“I-I’m much better at acting now!” Ann pouted as the others chuckled.

 

With laughter and a promise to meet again, the reunion meeting of the former Phantom Thieves was adjourned.

 

* * *

 

 

Akira lay awake in bed that night. His small apartment was still stacked with cardboard boxes. Between meeting up with friends and settling Akechi down, there had been no time to unpack.

 

“Hey Akira, are you okay?” Morgana asked just before crawling to bed.

 

Akira covered himself with his blanket and made a questioning noise. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean this whole thing with Akechi.” Morgana circled the area at his feet. “You’re not completely yourself, I can feel it.”

 

“I’m fine, just, still surprised. That’s all.” Akira spoke from beneath the covers. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m tired.”

 

“Yeah.” Morgana settled down. “Good night, Akira.”

 

“Good night.”

 

Nothing fooled Morgana. Akira was just grateful his little housemate decided not to probe. He reached for the ornament he’d been wearing around his neck the past year. It was a small key, its head resembling a half-black half-gold mask. A girl gave it to him as a parting gift for saving her from a fake master.

 

If he were to put it in simple terms, that is. The full story was far too removed from common sense to explain to anyone other than Morgana.

 

For one thing, it involved beheadings.

 

Akira toyed with the key absent-mindedly, twirling it in his fingers. Ever since receiving it, its purpose had been nothing more than a pretty pendant. Akira had not returned to that blue padded prison room since it disappeared from his consciousness a year ago. The shimmering blue bars, its single warden and her master were nowhere to be found. The only evidence of their existence was the small key in his grasp.

 

But now, more than ever, Akira hoped for some guidance from the beings that governed the realm between dream and reality.

 

And maybe, some answers too. Akira closed his eyes and felt himself drift away. Maybe, just maybe, he would be able to go there this time…

 

* * *

 

 

A small keyhole hung in the air as if fixed to an invisible door. Akira looked down at the key in his hand.

 

The room no longer forcefully pulled him in; this was an invitation. Reaching out with the key, it was a perfect match with the keyhole. He turned it. A metallic _click_ echoed in his head, unlocking a part of his mind Akira had not visited in over a year. The blue prison bars materialised through a fluorescent mist, and the door to the Velvet Room swung forward.

 

“Welcome to the Velvet Room.” When Akira’s vision cleared, a familiar long-nosed man with bloodshot eyes greeted him. His attendant stood beside his desk, large compendium under one arm and... was she smiling? Sometimes it was hard to tell.

 

The Velvet Room had no concept of time. Akira’s last visit could have been yesterday, or ten years ago, and it wouldn’t have mattered to its residents. They seemed to care little for the trifle dealings of humans. But the fact that they answered his call at this time proved that perhaps, the residents of Velvet Room shared a spiritual bond with him.

 

Akira felt reassured by that fact.

 

“We meet again, My Trickster.” Lavenza curtsied as much as she could while holding the large book, which was to say, slightly. “I am glad you have found use for the key.”

 

“Nice to see you too.” Akira returned the greeting. Knowing these beings, there was no need to further explain himself. So he simply waited.

 

“You have a lot of questions.” Igor mused. “We can guide you, but ultimately, you are the master of your own fate”

 

“I’m aware of that.” Akira placed his hands in his pockets out of habit. “But first, can you explain how and why Akechi came back?”

 

Igor exchanged a look with his assistant. It was Lavenza who spoke next.

 

“Like you, he was a human with endless potential, and likewise, both of you were chosen by a malicious force. Your heart held the power that could defy even a god. Potentially, he is the same.”

 

Akira knew. Akechi was the only one who shared his ability to control different personas--masks manifested by an individual as a weapon to face the hardships of life. Apparently, most people only had one. He and Akechi were special.

 

“With Yaldabaoth’s defeat, there would be no other entity that could bring him back. The only explanation lies within Goro Akechi himself.”

 

“You mean,” Akira began, “he came back because _he_ wanted to?”

 

“To put it simply, yes.” Lavenza affirmed. “Like you, he possessed a strong will. It is possible he had a compelling reason to return.”

 

“But he has no memories, so what could be the reason?”

 

“We do not know that much.” Lavenza shook her head, the butterfly ornaments in her hair quivering. “Though, regarding his memories, we do have some knowledge that might assist you.”

 

Akira stayed silent, hands still in his pockets, indicating that he was not about to go anywhere. The golden-eyed girl studied him, then continued.

 

“His memories have not been lost. They are sealed away deep within his subconsciousness. Only with the right key can they be released.”

 

Akira tensed. There was a way to get Akechi’s memories back?

 

“Only you, My Trickster, with the Arcana of Justice and World, can unlock his memories.”

 

Akira took his hands out of his pockets.

 

“Only me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I could make him remember everything?”

 

“That is correct.” It was Igor who answered him. “But I must warn you, do not take this lightly.”

 

Akira frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“Memories define a person, but may also lead one to destruction.” Igor spoke in a grim tone, one he did not use often. “Humans have a defense mechanism in their minds to seal away painful memories that could potentially destroy them. You hold the key to another’s memories. Do not use that power thoughtlessly.”

 

“Though Goro Akechi is strong, he does not have the strength in relationships with others that you have built.” Lavenza sighed and continued for her master as though they were synchronised. “There is a chance that he will be irrevocably broken if you forcefully unlock the seal.”

 

Akira steadied himself. It was not often that shock rendered him speechless.

 

That year he spent in Tokyo, under the guidance of Morgana, he and his friends had the power to change people’s hearts, and to alter their nature for good. Once again, Fate had bestowed him with that power.

 

A power he was not sure he could wield against Goro Akechi.

 

“Do think thoroughly before you take action.” Igor’s voice returned to being somewhat pleasant. “You have plenty of time.”

 

“We await your next visit.” Lavenza bowed her head.

 

Akira nodded. The residents turned into fuzzy outlines. They were always coming and going as they pleased, but at least they divulged enough information for him to think about.

 

There was something else nagging at the back of his mind, but he was tired. Whatever it was, it would have to wait for another day.

 

 _What would you do?_ Akira thought, just before his consciousness drifted away completely. _You hated changing people’s hearts forcefully, didn’t you? There was a reason you sealed away those memories._

 

_You’d hate me if I tampered with your mind. Wouldn’t you?_

 

_I..._

**Author's Note:**

> Writing is not my forte. But this is a story I wanted to put into a complete form. Writing may be the only way I can do so for now.
> 
> I can't thank @gloryruin on twitter enough for helping me beta. The story would be much more cumbersome to read if it weren't for her, because writing to me is like trying to draw with my feet.
> 
> Next chapter: Akechi learns about his world. Akira questions himself. Ryuji makes ramen. Futaba plays mind games.


End file.
